


Laughing Boy

by Bunnywest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Creature Stiles Stilinski, Gerard is the sea witch, In which I take the little mermaid and ruin it for everyone., Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Merman Stiles, No siree, This is not the disney version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 20:12:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: “My name is Gerard, but they call me the sea witch,” the old man says, “And as I say, I can make your dreams come true.”Stiles sucks in a breath. He’s heard of this man, been warned against him. But he’s offering what Stiles wants, so he swims closer, curious. “How? And what will it cost?”The man’s smile grows wider, until it’s almost a grimace. “I can give you legs, and for three days you’ll walk among men. In return, you’ll give me your voice. You won’t be able to speak. If you can get your man to fall in love with you in that time, you’ll stay human, but if not, you’ll be turned into the foam on the waves, and give up your life.”





	Laughing Boy

**Author's Note:**

> For day one of Steter week, Creature Stiles/Alpha Peter. Let's just pretend I posted this on time, shall we?  
> This started out as a Little Mermaid AU, but Stiles...does what the hell he wants.  
> Unbeta'd barely edited, rough as guts, really. But at least I did something for Steter week!

 

Stiles sees the man walking along the shore, and his breath catches at the beauty of him. His muscular body, his confident walk, all make Stiles _want_. He wonders what it would be like to walk alongside him. He wonders what it would be like to walk at all.

He swims a little closer to shore to get a better look, and the man turns to look out to sea, giving Stiles a clearer view of his features. His nose is straight and fine, his jawline sharp, and his eyes are as blue as the depths Stiles swims in. The man’s lips part slightly, and Stiles wonders if his kisses are salty like the kisses he and Scott shared once, just to see what it was like.

The man’s beautiful, and he’s human, and Stiles can never have him.

But that doesn’t stop him going back the next day, and the next, and the next, eager for a glimpse. He discovers, to his glee, that the man walks the shore every evening, looking out to sea. Stiles swims along the shoreline, as close as he dares, and drinks in the sight of the man. Every time he sees him he feels a pull, an ache, a need for more. He’s careful that his father doesn’t see him sneaking up to the surface, because he doesn’t want to hear it again, how humans are dangerous and cruel and will cut a merman’s tail from his body for sport. He’s addicted to the sight of his pretty man now, and he thinks if he can’t see him every day, he’ll die a little.

He’s watching one day, closer that he’s ever dared to go before, and Stiles  thinks the man catches a glimpse of him. He steps forward, hand shading his eyes as he looks directly at Stiles, and Stiles ducks under the water, only resurfacing when he’s behind a rock.  He man cranes his neck trying to find him, and slips on a patch of algae, landing face first in the sand. He sputters and shakes his head as he gets up. There’s a piece of seaweed draped across his head and a sour expression on his face.

He looks so comical that it startles a laugh out of Stiles, long and loud, and once he starts laughing he can’t stop, laughing so hard he’s doubled over. The man spots him and stares at him, open mouthed, and Stiles shuts his mouth with a snap. The man looks like he’s about to say something, but Stiles ducks under the waves and swims as fast as he can to deeper waters.

Once he judges himself safe, he raises his head out of the water. The man’s still on the shore, but he’s walking around the rocks where Stiles was hiding, looking for him.  Stiles breathes a sigh of relief – the man obviously thinks he saw another human. He watches as the figure on the shore continues to search fruitlessly, and part of hm wishes there was a way he could join him on land, walk on two legs, laugh with him and hold his hand.

 

* * *

 

Stiles watches the man, but now he’s more careful, because the man is watching back.  But not careful enough, it seems. Stiles is near the shore one day with Scott, diving and chasing each other, and Scott grabs him around the ribs and runs his fingers over Stile’s gills. Stiles giggles uncontrollably,  the sound ringing out in the still air, and suddenly Scott drags him underwater. “There was a man, he was looking when you laughed!” Scott says urgently. Stiles peeks above the surface of the water, and sure enough, his man is scanning the beach, head cocked to the side and listening.

Because he tells Scott everything eventually, he tells him about the man seeing him before, tells Scott that he wishes there was a way meet the man, a way to grow legs and walk. Scott frowns at him, and refuses to listen to such a notion.

But there are other ears listening, and the next day Stiles gets a message.

“ _I can make your dreams come true_ ,” it says. There are directions to a cave, and Stiles follows them, because ever since he was a small fry he’s been prone to impulsive, dangerous decisions. He doesn’t tell anyone, not even his father, just swims there as fast as he can. When he arrives, he enters the cave to find a white haired merman who he’s never seen before. The man smiles at him in a way that’s probably meant to be fatherly, but is instead terrifying.

“I hear you want to experience human life, Stiles, and meet the pretty man from the shore,” he says. Stiles nods dumbly, torn between hope and a quiet, bubbling terror. “Excellent. I have a little magic. For a price, I can make it happen,” the man says, still smiling.

“Who – who are you?” Stiles asks.

“My name is Gerard, but they call me the sea witch,” the old man says, “And as I say, I can make your dreams come true.”

Stiles sucks in a breath. He’s heard of this man, been warned against him. But he’s offering what Stiles wants, so he swims closer, curious. “How? And what will it cost?”

The man’s smile grows wider, until it’s almost a grimace. “I can give you legs, and for three days you’ll walk among men. In return, you’ll give me your voice. You won’t be able to speak. If you can get your man to fall in love with you in that time, you’ll stay human, but if not, you’ll be turned into the foam on the waves, and give up your life.”

Stiles bites his lip, hesitating. “Three days isn’t very long. And if I can’t speak…”

“Human men are shallow, and you’re an attractive young thing, Stiles. Just bat those big brown eyes at him, and he’ll be all yours. Come on boy, make a decision,” Gerard demands.

Stiles doesn’t trust him, but his heart yearns for the handsome man on the shore. “Where…where would my voice go?” he asks.

Gerard pulls a tiny glass bottle from somewhere, and sets it down on a table. “In here. If you succeed, I’ll take the stopper out and your voice will be restored.”

Stiles still wavers. “Show me first?”

Gerard scowls, but he lays his hand against  Stiles’ throat and when he draws it away there’s a small, shimmering golden swirl dancing on his fingertips. He places a finger against the neck of the bottle and the gold trickles inside. Gerard places a stopper in the neck, and when Stiles opens his mouth, nothing comes out. He points frantically at the bottle and his throat, face panicked.

Gerard laughs at his distress, but he unstoppers the bottle and the gold bubbles out of the top. Stiles opens his mouth and the gold streams back in. He opens his mouth, and a shaky laugh comes out. “That simple, huh?”

“That simple. So, what do you say?” Gerard asks, his smile all teeth and intent.

Stiles takes a deep breath. “I want be where the people are,” he says.

Gerard grins wickedly, swimming forward and laying his hand against Stiles’ neck, and his voice once again ends up in the bottle. Next he forces a foul smelling vial of liquid down Stiles’ throat, and Stiles opens and closes his mouth soundlessly as he feels the flesh of his tail split apart, and then start to reform into unfamiliar limbs. He flails as he attempts to swim, and Gerard laughs meanly at his struggles.

He stops laughing, though, when Stiles gets his limbs under control and lunges for a long silver dagger that’s lying there. He drives it deep into Gerard’s chest, twisting it mercilessly.  Stiles makes no sound, but he see that the witch understands him as Stiles mouths   _I never agreed to your terms, witch_ with a look of triumph on his face. As the older merman gasps and gurgles and the life leaves his body, Stiles grabs the bottle with his voice in it and swims desperately for the surface, his gills no longer working and his lungs burning.

His head breaks the surface and he drags in air, heart beating wildly in his chest. He paddles clumsily to the shallows, one hand clutching the bottle, and thinks that it’s no wonder the humans don’t spend much time in the water – swimming with legs is _exhausting._ He finally pulls himself onto a rock, and goes to open the bottle, when he has a sudden thought. He carefully ducks his head underwater and opens the bottle there, mouth open, and he can feel it flowing into him. He opens his mouth and a sound escapes, and he grins. He’s done it. He has legs _and_ his voice. Stiles is known for making dangerous, impulsive choices, but he’s also known for being clever enough to make them work.

 He lets go of the rock and starts to swim towards shore, frustrated beyond belief that just keeping his legs together doesn’t make them work like his tail did. When he looks, he finds there’s a ridiculous looking thing flapping around at the top of his thighs, wrinkled and ugly. He wonders if it’s in place of the breeding fin he normally sports, but dismisses that idea quickly – it’s far too soft to do anything with. He can’t imagine what it could be for.

He’s approaching the shore when he sees the pretty man. Stiles calls out and waves his arms about, and the man’s face lights up. Stiles attempts to get his feet under him and walk up out of the water, but legs are treacherous things, and he stumbles and falls back into the waves. He tries again, making it as far as the shallows before he slips. He goes over backwards, sputtering as his head goes underwater and he forgets to close his mouth.  When he emerges again, coughing and gasping, the man is walking through the waves towards him, hand extended.

Stiles reaches out, grinning, and a firm hand grips his.  The man tries to help him, but somehow Stiles ends up dragging him into the water instead. He man gives a shout and lands half atop him, and the pair of them sit there in barely a foot of water, panting and wet. Stiles looks across and sees that the man’s soaking wet. He can’t help but giggle, and at the man’s confused look he starts to laugh properly. The man’s eyes widen. “It is you! You’re my laughing boy!”

Stiles nods, and he grabs the man’s arms. “You need to fall in love with me in three days, or I’ll turn into sea foam. I made a deal with a sea witch and he gave me legs, but I didn’t trust him so I killed him, and I think the spell’s broken, but I don’t want to take the chance, so can I kiss you now?”

The man smiles at his excited babbling, and it’s beautiful. “Shouldn’t we at least exchange names? I’m Peter.”

 _Peter._ Stiles thinks it’s perfect. “Stiles,” he breathes out.

“Pleased to meet you, Stiles,” Peter says, and he sounds amused. “Now, why don’t you tell me more about this sea witch that you killed, and how he gave you legs. What did you have before, my sweet boy?” He raises an eyebrow.

“A tail,” Stiles confesses, squeezing his eyes closed and hoping against hope that the man, _Peter_ , his mind helpfully reminds him, is one of those who respects the merfolk. Stiles suspects he must be, from the time he spends looking out to sea.

Peter's silent for a long minute, and Stiles can feel his heart beating faster in his chest as he waits for a response, hoping Peter won’t reject him. Finally, he says, “Well, that explains why you’re so shaky on your legs. Shall I help you to shore? And then maybe we can have that kiss, and I’ll do my best to fall in love with you in three days.”

 

* * *

 

 Stiles discovers a lot of new things in the following week.

He finds that trousers feel strange and scratchy, but that he has to wear them, or Peter will lead him back upstairs and make him put them on, no matter how much he grumbles. He learns that walking is good, running is better, but kissing Peter is best of all.

He learns that Peter has been searching for him since he heard him laugh, was captivated by the sound, and has dreamed of the pale, dark haired boy in the water.

On the evening of the third day, they wait with bated breath to be sure Stiles won’t dissolve into foam, and Stiles beams when he remains solidly sitting there.  “Does this mean you love me?” he asks, and his heart only breaks a little when Peter shakes his head.

“I can’t love you, not yet,” Peter confesses. “There’s something I need to show you first. I have my own secrets.” And as the moon rises high in the sky, Peter leads him into the woods and reveals his werewolf nature to Stiles, flashing alpha red eyes at him. 

Stiles is delighted to learn that such a wonderful creature exists, and begs to know more. Peter is happy to tell him everything, and they bask in their shared strangeness. Stiles insists that Peter bite him as soon as possible, and Peter laughs at his eagerness, but he doesn’t say no. 

It takes two weeks before Peter pulls him close one evening, and murmurs a soft "I do love you, you know, my laughing boy."

Happiness swells in Stiles' chest, and he replies, "And I you, my wolf."

Peter invites Stiles to share his bed. Stiles agrees, not sure why he does, except that he wants more than kisses, wants _something_. And once he’s there, Peter kisses him just so, and their naked bodies rub against each other at the perfect angle, and Peter uses his hands and his mouth in ways Stiles has never even dreamed of, and Stiles discovers that the ridiculous lump of soft flesh is magical, and wonderful, and really, maybe it isn’t legs that hold the appeal after all, but what lies between them.

 


End file.
